


For your Entertainment

by GraveTiger



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, M/M, Tags will ruin it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23124394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveTiger/pseuds/GraveTiger
Summary: Yuri notes the stocky well-built male take the seat next to his at the bar, notes the understated bad boy vibe the leather jacket and undercut give him. He makes a face, wishing his boyfriend dressed like that. It was a shame he was the responsible type, taking his coaching job seriously. Yuri shakes his head."Excuse you," he snips.A dark brow arches as the face turns toward him.Damn he's hot.The stoic expression melts only slightly as lips twitch into the barest hint of an amused smile, "May I replace your drink?"Yuri sucks on his tongue for a moment, "Vodka. Straight."
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov (mentioned), Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 2
Kudos: 144





	For your Entertainment

The club is crowded and noisy with music too loud even if it’s not deafening. Yuri unlocks the phone, notes the highlights from the skate in China last night. His knee flexes absently, the memory of a bad fall, the pain of a sprained knee both distant and right there in his face. If he’d fallen like this when he was sixteen, he’d be back up and going again already. Why was it harder at nearly twenty-two?

He checks his phone again for the time. His boyfriend should be finishing up with work soon. Yuri hates the coaching during the school year. It _always_ keeps the boyfriend late and they get so little time as it is. He swirls what’s left of his drink and downs it in one go.

Maybe he should call Katsudon… see what he and Victor did that one year they weren’t tied at the hip.

Victor himself wouldn’t help... just wax poetic about how lonely he was and how much it’d stressed what was left of his hair.

_That_ moron was hopeless.

Yuri snorted and shook his head, going to take another drink but remembered that he’d finished it already. He debates on getting another one and notes the stocky well-built male take the seat next to his at the bar, notes the understated bad boy vibe the leather jacket and undercut give him. He makes a face, wishing his boyfriend dressed like that. It was a shame he was the responsible type, taking his coaching job seriously. Yuri shakes his head.

"Excuse you," he snips.

A dark brow arches as the face turns toward him.

Damn he's hot.

"I'm sorry?"

"That seat could be taken you know," Yuri snarks.

"Is it?"

Yuri's nose crinkles, "...No."

The stoic expression melts only slightly as lips twitch into the barest hint of an amused smile,  
"May I replace your drink?"

Yuri sucks on his tongue for a moment, "Vodka. Straight."

The stranger flags the bartender and gets Yuri’s glass refilled, “Do I get a name?” he asked, sounding vaguely amused.

“Only If I get yours first.” Yuri retorted , nodding a thanks to the bartender.

“Otabek.”

“Right _Otabek_ … I’m Yuri.”

“Oh? What a coincidence… I have a couple of friends by that name.”

“Huh… Are any of them married to a walking disaster?”

A laugh, “I don’t know about that. He’s definitely… _odd_ though.”

Yuri snorts.

That was a very nice way to put it.

“So… what do you do? Assuming you work.”

Yuri rolled his eyes at the conversation topic… like _really_? “I skate… or did,” he flexes his knee again, “Met my boyfriend that way actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yea…” Yuri smiled a little at the memory, “We were in the same competition a few years ago. He was a huge _fucking_ dork… trying _**way**_ too fuck’n hard,” he caught Otabek’s mouth twitch, “but I think that’s why I liked him. Putting in effort like that means he’s invested… like _really_ invested.”

“Should I leave you alone then?”

“Nah.. he works… _a_ -fuck’n- _lot_.”

“I see,” comes the reply.

“And you?”

“Me?”

“What do you do?”

“I dj a bit.”

“Nice. I’ll bet your girlfriend loves that.”

“ _He_ likes to get bitchy about it,” Otabek replied with the _**faintest**_ smile, and Yuri felt his brow twitch, “Claims I love _it_ more than him.”

“Probably a good reason for it,” he snipped and took a sip.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t still recovering from an accident and bored out of his mind.”

They slip into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the club settling around them as they drink their drinks. Yuri kinda wants to dance but doesn’t want to risk fucking his knee up any more than it already is. Otabek pulls his phone out, typing something and then shoves it back into his back pocket. Yuri ignores the tiger roar his gives off.

Probably just Victor sending him some stupid meme that was trending a decade ago.

Or maybe Katsudon wanting to talk about the scores.

Or Victor gushing about Katsudon and embarrassing himself.

Seriously… The man was like thirty-five… It was gross.

His curiosity gets the better of him and checks the message.

_Kamin : Class running late. Go out tomorrow night?_

Yuri heaved a sigh, feeling a familiar pang at the equally familiar wording.

“Something wrong?”

“Nah… asshole’s cancelling on me again.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Yuri flipped the phone face down with more annoyance than intended.

“I’m sure he feels guilty. I don’t imagine he’d _want_ to be away from you.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way,” he admitted, only vaguely noticing the way Otabek shifts on his seat.

“Maybe… maybe he knows how hard you work and wants to make sure that you’re taken care of while you’re down.”

Yuri shoots him a look, “Or _**maybe**_ he’s just a jerk.”

Otabek cocks a brow, looking equal parts amused and annoyed, “ _Kotic_.”

Yuri wants to smack the guy for calling him ‘kitten’ but the way he said it gave him a pleasant shiver down his spine, “That’s a _sexy_ accent and in my mother tongue too.”

Otebek gave him a pleased smirk, “Oh?”

“Mhm,” he leans closer, “I wouldn’t mind hearing more of it.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I learned more of it because of a crush I had?”

Yuri cocked a brow, fighting the grin, “That sounds lame, like something a lovestruck idiot would do.”

“Oh I was.”

“And now?” he sits back.

“A little less of an idiot.”

God that was so fuck'n cheesy.

Yuri leaned on the bar toward Otabek again, “Wanna get out of here?”

The other blinked, seemingly surprised, “Already?”

“Yea. Eh my-my boyfriend’s late so we’ll have the place to ourselves for abit.”

Otabek stands with him and settles the bill before letting Yuri lead him out onto the dark street. It’s a few blocks to walk but the weather’s ok enough for it. They pass the ice rink, but Yuri does his best to ignore it so he’s not tempted to say fuck it and go skate. Otabek throws an arm over his shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of his head. Yuri almost flushes and lightly elbows the slightly taller male who just takes it for the flirtation it was and runs a hand down Yuri’s back, fingers lingering just above his ass. He lets the hand stay until they reach his building where he grabs that wrist and Otabek’s shirt. The taller male lets Yuri shove him into the wall, kissing him _hard_. Otabek grips Yuri’s hips, holding him still as he kisses back. Yuri pulls away, nipping the Kazakh’s bottom lip and getting an almost primal growl from the other. He heads inside and doesn’t wait around, hearing the determined footsteps behind him. The elevator would take too long so he heads for the stairs, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the best idea. He’s getting hot on the idea of being hunted though and it just gets worse as he pauses between the second and third floors only to hear the slow and steady footsteps coming up after him. Hands are tucked into the pockets of the leather jacket and the dark head looks up, pinning Yuri with a look promising _many_ things.

Yuri bolts only to stop halfway to the fourth floor when his knee complains.

The footsteps behind him have picked up, making his heart race. Yuri hops up the last few stairs and shoves the door open. He’s somewhere between a speed walk and a light jog down the hallway. The door to the stairs bangs open and the footsteps are behind him again. He makes a final push for his apartment, but the presence behind him comes up fast and pins him to the door as they both reach it. Lips and teeth tease his neck and he almost drops his keys trying to shove them into the lock. Yuri _finally_ unlocks the door and opens it. He didn’t even wait until they were fully inside before jumping on Otabek, kissing him soundly on the mouth. Otebek caught him, holding him easily, closing the door, and stepped over the mountain of shoes Yuri left by the door. Yuri shoved his tongue down the other's throat as he was carried through the dark apartment and down the even darker hallway, passed a couple closed doors to the one at the end. Potya hissed when he was toed out of the way so Otebek could open the bedroom door and get inside before the feline could sneak in after them. Yuri felt them spin and the door slammed shut. He was dropped on the bed and a lamp beside him turned on. He watched with a smirk as the leather jacket was shrugged off and dropped to the floor. Yuri sat up, grabbing Otabek by the belt and dragged him between his legs, Yuri’s heels hooking around calves. He ran his hands up under the tight sweater, pushing it up to show off the toned abs underneath. Yuri honestly doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He jerks at the shirt, getting it halfway off before Otabek helps him with the rest. The belt’s undone and Yuri yanks them down Otabek’s thighs before scooting back and shucking his own jacket and shirt. He’s kicking off his shoes when hands grab his jeans and drag them off. Yuri has to wiggle a little to help get the tight things off, but they both end up naked and he’s being herded to the center of the mattress. Otabek slowly drops his weight onto Yuri, careful to not crush him as lips touch and Yuri’s tongue wrestles itself into the other’s mouth. Hands slide down his sides, pinning his hips when he tries to grind himself into the body above his. Yuri growls, not particularly caring how he sounds. He’s always been loud, unapologetically so, and being so wound up only made it worse. Otebek pulls away a bit. Yuri’s good leg is hooked over a shoulder as a hand ran down the back of a thigh. It paused to tease him and Yuri was bent further for a moment before being dropped. Otabek cocked a brow to which Yuri just winked.

The other just rolled his eyes and eased the plug from his ass, “Expecting this were we?” and tossed it.

“Maybe,” Yuri grinned and arched like a cat, “Cuts down on prep so i’m not sure why you’re complaining.”

“Was I?” Otabek fiddles around in the drawer next to the bed and finally finds what he’s looking for, “That’s where I put it.”

“Put what?” Yuri asked.

The cap is popped off, the clear substance squirted onto fingers, “A mix some kid shoved at me last night.”

“ _Great_ ,” Yuri rolled his eyes only to have them end up in the back of his head, “ _Fuuck_ _Bek_.” The fingers were gentle for all of thirty seconds before they got demanding, bordering on painful.

Just how Yuri liked it.

Until it wasn’t enough.

“If you… don’t get your ass up here… and fuck me… I’m gonna _beat_ it.”

Otabek leaned forward, bending Yuri in half again, making sure to keep most of the pressure off of his bad knee and lined himself up. His already dark eyes were a sultry black. Yuri felt both breathless and smug.

He was the only one who got to see this side of Otabek Altin, the side that wasn’t controlled or hidden under a constant poker face.

“Move. You ass.”

There was a smirk and Yuri shrieked. He wasn’t given time to adjust either. Otabek just railed into him, altering every few thrusts until Yuri saw stars.

“ _There_.”

And that’s the last thing Yuri hears aside from his own noises until he whites out and Otabek gives a rough growl before collapsing. He wasn't sure when he'd been flipped to his front but there he was... and he'd have to wash the top blanket tomorrow too. _Fuck_. The taller rolls off of him and settles next to Yuri as they catch their breath. Yuri finally gets himself together, pleased with the mild ache and the relaxed high of a good fucking.

“ _Bitchy_? Really Beka?”

Otabek laughed, “Like your description of me was any better,” there was a brief pause, “Are you really that upset at me?”

Yuri shrugs, “Not really… You’re just gone alot and… I know _why_. It just fuck’n sucks sometimes. We used to spend so time together and now...”

"Some days we hardly see each other?"

"... _Yea_..." 

Beka leans up on both elbows and Yuri rolls to his side to look up at him, “I meant what I said about wanting to take care of you while you’re down.”

Yuri touched his face, “I know.”

Lips touch his palm, “Did you enjoy yourself at least?”

“It was nice to get out,” Yuri replied, “You don’t want to do _that_ again though… do you?” he felt disappointed.

Beka shrugged, “It made me feel sleazy, hitting somebody who claimed to be taken even if I knew it was by me,” he glanced at Yuri, “You do though.. Don’t you...”

Yuri gave a sharp snort, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does.”

“Not if you’re not having fun too.”

Beka shifted to one elbow, touching Yuri’s face, “Maybe… maybe we pull it out for things like your birthday? Maybe… maybe we just play at being strangers and leave the ‘attached’ bit out of it...”

Yuri snuggles into the broader male, “It’d be ok.”

“Yea?”

“I think I liked that last bit on the stairs the best though.”

He doesn’t see the smirk.

Beka doesn’t even say anything.

Yuri knows it’s there though.

He smacks Beka’s chest and gets a deep laugh, “Shut the fuck up.”


End file.
